


Descendent of Corvinus

by VIntageLibrary



Category: Underworld (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Lucian, Eventual mpreg, M/M, Omega Michael, alpha/beta/omega
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:12:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VIntageLibrary/pseuds/VIntageLibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Vampires were ignorant of what lay in the ancient blood line. Lucian hunts for the descendent of Corvinus who would be the key to winning this war, the one who once bitten would transform into an omega, a beautiful powerful creature who would lead the Werewolves to victory. Lucian had seen it already, all those years ago when he became the Alpha...he had seen Michael.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit from ‘Underworld’ or any of the characters associated.

References taken from the film ‘Underworld’ can be found here:  http : // www . script-o-rama . com / movie_scripts / u / underworld-script-kate-beckinsale .

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Prologue:

 

_The war had all but ground to a halt in the blink of an eye._

_Lucian, the most feared and ruthless leader ever to rule the Lycan clan…_

_…had finally been killed. The Lycan horde scattered to the wind…_

_…in a single evening of flame and retribution._

_Victory, it seemed, was in our grasp…_

_…the very birth right of the Vampires._

_Nearly six centuries had passed since that night._

_Yet the ancient feud proved unwilling to follow Lucian to the grave._

_Though Lycans were fewer in number…_

_…the war itself had become more perilous._

_For the moon no longer held her sway._

_Older, more powerful Lycans were now able to change at will._

_The weapons had evolved, but our orders remained the same:_

_Hunt them down and kill them off, one by one._

_A most successful campaign._

_Perhaps too successful._

_\For those like me, a Death Dealer…_

_…this signalled the end of an era._

_Like the weapons of the previous century…_

_…we, too, would become obsolete._

_Pity, because I lived for it._


	2. Crossing Paths

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit from ‘Underworld’ or any of the characters associated.

* * *

 

Chapter One: Crossing Paths

It was pouring it down by the time he made it to the subway station, the wind blew the rain sideways at times and he was soaked through, all because he’d forgotten his umbrella at home and only had a thin zip-up to protect him against the harsh elements, it wasn’t helping much at the moment though. Even his bones felt cold. It was unusual; it had been so nice earlier that day. There was no warning.

Dodging through the swarming mass of umbrellas, he stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets to shield them from the harsh wind. Trying not to dwell to long in the harsh conditions, he shot down the stairs to the station and out of the rain. Letting out a sigh, he dropped the hood from his face, and much like a dog, shook his head to rid himself from the droplets of water that clung to his hair.

It wasn’t much warmer down on the platform, but at least he was shielded from the rain.

A chill ran down his spine, not just from the rain or the cold, but rather something entirely different. It felt as if someone was boring holes into the back of his head; someone was watching him. As he stood, waiting for the next train to come, he noticed out of the corner of his eye that someone was staring at him. Not in the way that they’d spaced out and weren’t aware of what they were doing, but in a way that they clearly knew what they were doing and that if he (Michael) would turn and catch them in the act, they’d still continue to stare.

Trying to appear calm while he was in turmoil inside, he kept his gaze away from the man, hoping that he was unaware that Michael had noticed. Yet, as he turned to face the other way, another problem arose for on the other side of the platform; there was another man, if you could call him that. He too was staring at him, just like the other. There was a hunger, a longing in both their eyes and he could only imagine what they wanted with him.

Panicked, his gaze shot between both of them. He took a slight step backwards; away from them, closer to the stairwell on his left, when they both took a threatening step forwards, towards him. Yet, just as he thought he’d have to run for it, someone else decided to join.

The effect was instantaneous, both snarled at the other, teeth bared like animals as they crouched inwards on themselves.

“Bloods!” It came from the man on the other end of the platform, he was built like a brick house, though his coat hid much, it only helped to emphasise the sheer vastness of the man. Dark, broad and tall, he towered over others as he shoved them out of his way.

Eyes widening, his heart leapt as he took the opportunity to flee, spinning on his heel, he ran for the stairs, just reaching them as he heard a roar followed by the sound of gunfire that sent him sideways into the wall. Cursing as pain laced through his left arm, he clutched it to his chest, as over the hail of gunfire he heard shouting.

“He’s getting away, go after him!” the voice was deep and gruff from the same man and Michael knew in his heart that they were talking about him. Yet, as he was about to sprint up the stairs, he was stopped by the groan from a women that lay curled on the floor against the wall, half-conscious. The medic in him panged with guilt, he couldn’t just leave her here, he had to help her somehow.

Stepping away from his exit he threw himself into the alcove to escape the bullets flying overhead and grabbed hold of the woman, gently turning her head to face him.

“It’s all right,” he spoke in an urgent tone at her fear filled gaze, “I’m a nurse, I’m going to help you, ok, everything’s going to be alright.”

Yet, just as he’d begun to check her injury, she’d been clutching at her stomach, blood seeping through her fingers; something seized his left forearm and hauled him upwards away from her. Stumbling, he lost his footing and fell on whatever held him.

Gasping for breath, he slowly raised his gaze from the black leather coat he’d fallen on to, upwards to gaze into lethal blue eyes. They stared back at him; he’d never seen eyes like those before. They roved over his face, from his brows, his eyes, sweeping his nose and down to his lips where they lingered briefly until they locked back onto his pupils. He could see the ethereal blue diminish as the others pupils expanded.

Michael’s heart pounded in his chest as the one who held him smiled. He struggled against the hold, trying in vain to get back to the helpless woman on the ground at his feet. But he couldn’t free himself from the man’s grip, it was impossibly strong, he could feel the skin already beginning to bruise from the hold, he only ceased his struggling when the nozzle of a gun was pushed into his ribs.

He froze, gaze boring into shocking blue until the other was thrown to the side by a stray bullet.

He stood, standing in shock, staring at the man on the ground who was curling up in agony from the bullet wounds, only to notice steam rising from the bullet holes. It was only when the other raised his gun to retaliate, that he dove back into his little cove and back to the woman on the ground.


End file.
